


Crosswalk

by BarracudaHeart



Series: Crosswalk series [1]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Adoption, Child Neglect, Depression, Family Bonding, Gen, Loneliness, Mother-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 10:27:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5044786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarracudaHeart/pseuds/BarracudaHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the silence of the drive, aside from the patter of rain, Priyanka could hear an automatic voicemail message on the line, and as soon as it beeped, Lars began to speak in Mandarin, his voice soft and tired, like this hadn't been the first time he'd gotten no response. Of all the words that came out, all she could understand were the words for 'mother' and 'father', and a goodbye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crosswalk

The clock above the counter of the Big Donut chimed 5:30, Thursday afternoon, citing it was time to start closing up the store. Stretching her legs out, Sadie walked over to the front door, flipping the 'Open' sign to 'Closed', and got to work on the daily checklist they carried for when it came time to close up. She glanced over to Lars, who was slouched at the counter, banging his head to music, and smiled, speaking up, "Hey Lars, can you empty out the trash, please?"

After thirty seconds of calling out her friend's name, and still not getting his attention over the loud music coming from his headphones, Sadie decided she would have to resort to plan B, and promptly pulled one of the headphones off his ear to speak.

"Lars, time to empty out the trash~", she singsonged as he yelped in surprise, and nearly fell off his chair.

Yanking his headphones off, he gave a frown, and huffed, "Fine," and grabbed the overflowing bags of styrofoam cups and napkins from the garbage bins under the counters, and hauled them out to the dumpster. Coming back inside, and without being asked, he began to grab the trays of unsold donuts to take to the back.

"What's this?", Sadie looked over, "No clocking out early?"

"Nah," he shrugged, "I'm in no rush to get home."

"Alright," she shrugged back, and began wiping down the counter, "You have any plans for the weekend yet?"

"Not really,", he shrugged, "I don't have a car to go anywhere anymore, so I'm stuck in city limits unless I hitch a ride with someone. And even then, where would I go? Charm City? Noooo thank you."

"True," she laughed softly, and tossed a soapy rag at his head, "Clean the rack when you're done getting all the donuts put away?"

"Yeah," he yawned, and stretched his back and it gave a satisfying crack.

Within thirty minutes, they'd closed up the store, and were locking the back door as they left, walking down the street.

"Still don't have anything to rush home to?", Sadie asked him as she stuck her hands in her pockets, nudging his leg.

"Nope," he sighed, scratching his nose, "Nothin' in the slightest."

"So I guess the house is all yours this week again?"

"Yeah. Just like last week...and the week before that," he muttered, grabbing for his headphones, sliding them on as they reached the intersection where they would go their separate ways to go home.

Sadie sighed, wondering if she hit a nerve, and gave him a small goodbye, "See you tomorrow."

Lars clearly didn't hear her, the Japanese metal music already blaring loudly from the headset again. And he clearly wasn't paying attention to the road, as he stormed across it, and Sadie whirled her head around in time to scream his name when she saw what was coming.

The driver of the car slammed on the brakes, and Lars managed to hear the tires screech painfully, and turned his head right before the bumper struck him at a glancing blow, and he fell to the ground sharply with a high pitched yelp.

The driver immediately got out of their car, hurrying over to the teen laying spread-eagle on the ground as Sadie rushed over, looking horrified, "Lars! Oh my god!", she nearly choked.

Lars had been knocked out for less than fifteen seconds, came to, remained stunned on the ground, looking around in a daze, then groaned, rubbing his head, "Ouch, that really smarted," he muttered, and was slowly starting to sit up.

"I'm calling an ambulance!", the driver yelped.

"Wh-what, wait, no!", Lars yelped, "I'm fine, y'see!"

"Lars, you might have a concussion!", Sadie spoke worriedly, "Don't try to move or anything!"

"Sadie, I'm okay!", he insisted, rubbing his head where it had hit the ground, feeling a scrape, and what was sure to be a bruise there, and on his hip and knee, but he was sure he was fine.

"You took a pretty hard fall, and they hit you pretty nicely," she mumbled, and without much force, had him remain on the ground, not wanting to jostle anything internally.

Lars groaned, already seeing a crowd of people starting to come over to witness the accident while the frantic driver was calling an ambulance, probably panicking over the thought of getting arrested or sued. Lars would do nothing of the kind, finding it would be a waste of time.

"Ugh, Sadie, people are staring! C'mon just let me go!"

"We should get you checked out at the hospital!", she argued.

"Sadie!", he whined, and covered his eyes in annoyance when people came over, asking what happened, and if he was okay. When an ambulance finally rolled up, Lars was insisting he was alright to the paramedics as they routinely checked his blood pressure, his breathing, his vitals, and laid him on a stretcher, and into the back of the vehicle, and Sadie climbed in with him.

"If I don't get home by eight thirty, I swear I'm going to eat your cactus," Lars glared at her, "Raw."

"And bring more pain on yourself?", she sighed, "Alright."

On the way, Lars was trying to think of ways this wouldn't suck, and thought about how he could use this to get out of working tomorrow. But then remembering his personal pledge not to pawn off all his work on Sadie unless absolutely necessary (and by that he meant if he was coughing up blood or bile or his house was on fire), and wanting to get a decent paycheck this month, he realized he'd have to go in tomorrow, regardless of how sore he might be.

He texted his parents once they wheeled him in to get examined, telling them the situation he was in, not expecting to get an answer for at least two hours, especially with how they prioritized their messages on their phones. Perhaps he should have lied and said he was dying, in hopes they would answer in less than an hour.

* * *

After so many years of working at the hospital, Priyanka had created a priority scale she liked to go by. She would be quick to address emergencies like broken bones and blood, or life or death matters. If the patient was stable, and there was a patient in worse condition, she would tend to them, and leave the stable patient to the nurses if possible.

But when the hospital had its busy days, the priority scale ended up being an even lower priority than when she was called by a higher up to handle a patient regardless of their condition. And unfortunately, today was one of those days.

"Dr. Maheswaren, we have a car accident patient in need of examination," someone spoke up for her attention as she looked over a currently sedated patient following a three hour surgery.

"Are any other doctors able to take them on?"

"No, and frankly, with how...disruptive this patient is being, we'd like them out as soon as we can," the orderly sighed.

Rubbing her forehead, Priyanka, fixed her hair back, "I see," and followed the orderly down the hall, and right outside the door, she could hear someone irritably complaining to a nurse, insisting they were fine.

Walking in, she saw her patient, a teenage boy, sitting up on the stretcher that had been wheeled in. Looking at the clipboard of newly filled paperwork, she sighed, "Hello, Mr. Cheng, I'm Dr. Maheswaran, and I'll be examining your injuries."

"I ain't injured!", Lars insisted, "Can you tell these nutjobs to let me go? I just got bumped by the car!"

"Not according to the paperwork filled out," she raised an eyebrow, "Sounds like you hit the ground pretty hard."

"I'm fine!," he argued, "I don't need anyone lookin' at me!"

"I'll be the judge of that," she clicked her tongue, and began to examine his head for signs of trauma.

"Hey!", he whined, "Quit messin' my hair!"

"I have to make sure you're not bleeding or concussed!", she insisted, and continued examining him, ignoring his continual complaints and snarky comments. Once she deemed he was fit, aside from being underweight (she just figured it was him being exceptionally tall for his age), she snapped her gloves off, rolling her eyes, "There. You're done."

"Good," he spat, "Can I go now?"

"As soon as we can get a parental release form taken care of, since you're underage-"

"What?", he glared, and frantically shook his head, "No. No way!", he got off the bed, grabbing for his shoes, "I ain't doin' that mess!"

"I'm afraid you have no choice, Mr. Cheng," she looked at him sternly, and he glared at her.

"They can't sign it. I can't get a release form."

"Well then you'll just have to wait until we can-"

Before she could even continue the conversation, the boy was already stomping out, rushing down the hall and to the elevator.

If Priyanka had more time, she could probably care, but she had other patients to worry about. Patients who definitely were more appreciative of her tireless work, than rude irritable punks like Mr. Lars Cheng.

Meanwhile, as Lars escaped the hospital on foot, storming towards the nearest bus station to get home with a sore leg, he was pulling out his phone with the intent to text Sadie to 'thank' her for this pointless trip, a text immediately beeped from his parents, three hours after he'd contacted them with a simple platitude that he take two aspirin and that they hoped he felt better soon.

Yeah. Okay.

* * *

That following day, Priyanka made a note to contact the Cheng residence to inform them Lars was not properly checked out from the hospital, and got to work with her patients for the day, finding herself rushing back and forth. When she finally seemed to have time for a break, she had a moment to sit down behind her desk, greeting a nurse, Charlene, who had placed down a box of donuts to share with coworkers.

"I saw your daughter at the donut shop," Charlene smiled, thinking nothing of it.

Priyanka looked up at her with a raised brow, "Really?"

"I've seen her the last few times I've gone there," Charlene shrugged, then smiled, "She's growing up very pretty!"

"Er...thank you," the doctor muttered, frown deepening. She was fine with not controlling Connie's activities, but she wasn't so sure she liked the idea of Connie frequenting a bakery so often, especially with the diet their whole family was accustomed to. Maybe a pastry once in a blue moon, but if the nurses were seeing Connie there often, Priyanka wasn't so sure she liked the sound of it.

During her lunch break, she pulled the address off of the box, and drove into Beach City to find The Big Donut (It wasn't hard, especially since there was a big metal donut on top of the store), and parked nearby, looking in the window, and couldn't help but feel a little bit betrayed as she saw her daughter through the window, sitting at a table with her friend Steven.

"Connie?", Priyanka frowned as she walked in, "What are you doing here?"

Connie perked up, looking a little shocked at seeing her mother inside the store, and catching her calm, scratched her cheek, "I know this looks weird, but I swear, I'm just here to read with Steven. We're holding our book club here."

"Book club?", Priyanka raised an eyebrow.

"Yep!", Steven chirped, holding up one of the books Connie had given him, "Weekly book club!"

"...I see," she lowered her frown a little, "...You're not eating donuts here every week, are you?"

"Not at all," Connie shook her head, "They don't even look that good."

"I heard that!", a voice snapped from the back, and Priyanka gave a disdainful look as she saw her rude patient from the evening before stomping out of the back room with a blonde girl following him out with a disapproving look.

Lars paused mid-step, and held back a groan, "Don't tell me you're her fuckin' mom-"

"Don't you swear in front of my child!", she scolded, pointing a finger at him.

Flushing bright red, he muttered something under his breath, and turned on his heel to walk back through the doorway.

"By the way, you still need to be checked out of the hospital. If I don't get a signed parental consent form, I'll have no choice but to call your household."

"Have fun with that," Lars snorted, folding his arms.

"Are you challenging me?", she frowned at him.

"No, I'm just sayin' you're not getting any consent forms. I'd say I checked out once I was cleared to be okay," he stuck his nose in the air.

"If I have to go through all the hospital policies with you to get it through your skull, so help me I'll-"

"Mom!", Connie cut in with fake cheerfulness, "Why don't you get back to the hospital? I'm sure things will get sorted out by the end of the day!"

"Probably not," Lars singsonged from the employee room.

Connie sighed, "Mom, it's not worth it, just go back to the hospital. Sorry I didn't tell you about the book club."

"It's fine," Priyanka sighed, "Just don't be trying to sneak junk food behind my back, alright? I'd figure it out soon enough, since you'd be breaking out," and gave a wave as she walked out of the store back towards her car.

Just as she was about to unlock the door, someone called out to her, and she saw Lars' female coworker speedwalking over.

"I just want to apologize for Lars," she spoke up.

"Oh no need. I deal with patients of his difficulty on a semi-regular basis," Priyanka sighed.

"He's not normally like this," the girl went on, "He's just been dealing with ah...things," she reasoned, then gave an assuring shrug, "I'll talk him into doing what's needed to check out."

"Good. Because he could be dealing with a $500 bill," the doctor rolled her eyes, and then raised a brow, "My daughter doesn't eat anything from your store, does she?"

"Not at all."

"Good," she sighed, and gave a wave as she got in her car and drove back to work, deciding it was one less thing to worry about now.

However, later that evening, on her way home from work, she drove past the donut shop to see if Connie was perhaps still there and in need of a ride home. Seeing all the lights off, she deemed it was closed, and that Connie was probably home by now, so she drove back towards the exit out of the city.

Just as she was about to drive through a crosswalk, a figure stepped into the road, and she slammed on the brakes, more than a little shocked.

Right in the glare of her headlights was a equally spooked Lars, and his shock quickly changed into a sour frown, and he stamped across the road. Priyanka honked her horn irritably at him to get him moving off the road, and he flounced across the road, giving an obscene gesture to her as he disappeared back in the dark.

Part of her was fully expecting him to reappear on her drive home, and she admittedly wouldn't feel guilty if she accidentally struck him.

However, while she was preparing dinner, she couldn't help but think back to what Lars' more pleasant co-worker had told her, that he was dealing with 'things'. Well, what kind of things? That could either mean something as trivial as high school exams, or something more serious like poverty or an ill family member, or abuse. Priyanka had plenty of teenage patients come in and out of the hospital with a multitude of ailments, both physical and mental. There was always the chance that this boy was unwell, and it was coming out through negative emotions. She just didn't know, and she knew it wasn't her business. But at the same time, she couldn't help but worry a little.

After dinner, late in the evening, an orderly forwarded her a parental release form for Lars Cheng, the signatures having been typed in instead of written, an exception only made if the parents were unable to show in person, and evidence was made to prove it.

Alright, maybe that was the dilemma. Lars' family just wasn't in town for him to get checked out, and he didn't want to stay overnight. She'd settle with that for now.

But that night, as she lay in bed, Priyanka was starting to second guess that theory. Somehow, the idea of him dealing with 'things' seemed more long term than the potential of being in a hospital overnight.

And somehow, she found herself worrying about the well being of a boy she would have felt no guilt about running over five hours earlier.

* * *

Deciding it wouldn't hurt to offer Connie some sort of refreshment during her book club that next week, Priyanka had planned to pack her a lunch for that day. But soon, after driving past that store to see if Lars was there to make sure he wasn't being reckless, she saw Connie at the window seat again, and then again the next day.

Deducing that this book club location had become the location for 'hanging out' as the kids these days put it, Priyanka decided she could prepare Connie a lunch for that next day, and drop it off during a break at the hospital.

Upon dropping it off, seeing the children in the middle of a conversation with the two shop employees, she decided not to interrupt. Sadie, the girl employee, had given her a friendly wave, and Lars gave a more-or-less annoyed look, and stepped away from the conversation, stepping over the counter (unsanitary!), and reached into one of the donut trays, picking up a donut.

And Dr. Maheswaran took action before he could even bite into it.

Connie, Steven, and Sadie all held back laughter as Lars stood in bewilderment and confusion at the sack lunch that had been shoved into his hand, the donut promptly pulled away. He looked at the bag, then at Dr. Maheswaran.

"What the  _heck_ , lady?", he frowned at her.

"Don't worry, everything in it is organic," she spoke calmly, smiling with a bit of smugness to him, "Consider it a free lunch that you don't need employee coverage on."

He rolled his eyes, "What are you, a doctor?"

"Actually, yes," she smiled again, and the other three burst into howls of laughter as Lars flushed with embarrassment, stomping into the back room with the sack lunch, and later that afternoon, Connie confirmed to her mother via phone that Lars did indeed eat everything the lunch contained.

Three days later, while going over papers in her study, Priyanka found Connie had left her violin out of its case, and decided to put it back in. As she picked it up, she was confused to see marks on it, and turned on the light to get a better look, seeing the marks were paint made to look like intricate pink flowers and stars.

"Connie?", she called out, "What did you do to your violin?"

Connie called out, "I had it painted, so Steven and I can both have customized instruments."

"Well that's fine, but I hope it's a paint that won't damage it, you know how touchy these things are," Priyanka muttered, looking over the instrument as her daughter came in, finding the handiwork to be pretty decent.

"Don't worry, Lars used a hard paint, and covered the strings before he-"

"Wait,  _Lars_  painted it? That boy?", Priyanka looked at the violin incredulously, "How did you get him to do that?"

"Well he needed money so-"

"Wait, he did this for money? How much? I don't want him exploiting you and your friends, talented or not!"

"Twenty dollars," Connie sheepishly spoke up.

"...Only twenty?" Priyanka muttered, looking over the instrument again, and at all the shapes he'd carefully put on, "He didn't charge more?"

Connie shook her head, and took the violin, admiring it herself, "It has all the details I'd wanted now!", and tested the strings, glad they sounded great, then put the violin away, heading upstairs to bed.

Priyanka stared at the violin in its case, and sighed, hoping Lars would put that twenty dollars to good use.

That next week, when Connie was coming home hungrier than usual, Priyanka decided to probe, wondering if her daughter was getting enough to eat.

Connie insisted she was fine, that she would be fine, but then had said something that made Priyanka turn her head.

_She had been giving her lunch to Lars this whole week._

Priyanka immediately told Connie if that boy was truly extorting her for money and food, that she shouldn't have to put up with it, but then the girl insisted she had been doing it voluntarily, having noticed since that one day her mom gave Lars that sack lunch, the employee never really seemed to eat much, and would go home hungry. Apparently Lars didn't like taking her lunches, but Connie was a persuasive girl, and he'd end up eating them because she convinced him to.

_Was Lars going to bed hungry too?_

That next morning, Priyanka had prepared two sack lunches, one for Connie, and one for the boy she wished she could stop worrying about.

In the sack she had prepared for Lars, she'd made a note:

_If I may offer a piece of advice, don't under price your painting jobs. - Dr. Maheswaran_

* * *

The next week, the weather had gotten colder, and the sky darker, prompting Priyanka to remind Connie to take a coat with her when she went out.

After work one evening, roadwork had detoured Priyanka past the donut shop, seeing the two employees closing it up. She watched as the two parted ways with a friendly hug, Lars walking across the crosswalk without a decent coat.

Seeing him rub at his arms to keep warm, she drove up, slowing down, and rolled down her window, "Aren't you cold?"

He glanced over, and gave a frown, "I'm fine," and turned to keep walking.

"Do you need a ride?"

"No," he frowned again, "I live like seven minutes away."

As she was about to ask him if he was sure, he waved it off. He gave a breath through his nose, and was a little surprised to see it in front of his face. Wow, maybe it was colder than he thought...

He was about to take another step forward when he saw a strange figure at the end of the street, and just having that teenage gut feeling that he was being watched, he looked back at Priyanka. He figured well enough she wasn't going to pull anything  _too_  weird on him. Just the idea of passing by a stranger in a small town where he normally knew most people just made him overly anxious.

"...I live on Waterman," he spoke lowly, awkwardly stepping inside the car, scrunching himself up as he sat in the seat. When she didn't immediately start driving, he caught her attention on his seatbelt, and begrudgingly put it on, peering out the window, not wanting to make eye contact.

She drove up the street, passing the strange figure, and Lars saw it was an out of towner checking their phone, nothing to worry about probably, and he felt a little annoyed with himself for getting so anxious about it. He was just glad this lady wasn't trying to bring up any sort of 'small talk'. He hated that stuff.

He mumbled "Right there", tapping his window as she eventually drove down his street, and she pulled up in front of the one house on the entire street with no lights on, and no car in the driveway. It wasn't a run down home in the slightest, in fact, it was quite nice, Priyanka thought, there was even a trampoline in the backyard that she could see, but it just all seemed... _lonely._

"...Okay. Thanks," Lars mumbled under his breath, getting out without another word, and was shelling through his pocket for his key.

"Do your parents need to know you-"

"No, it's fine," he insisted shortly, and closed his door, walking up to the house, letting himself inside.

Priyanka watched for a little over a minute, and not once saw the lights turn on inside, even when she drove away.

* * *

Lars wasn't exactly sure how on earth he got roped into joining Steven and Connie on their little escapade that afternoon, having gotten off work early following slow business during what was looking to be the rainiest day of the week, so once he and Sadie had closed up, and she had left to go help her mother at the post office, he was intending to just go home and keep out of the rain, until Steven and Connie invited him to join them with whatever they were doing. Perhaps it was out of sheer boredom that he joined them, and ended up watching from an undercover bus stop bench with only partial interest while they jumped around in puddles, and rode on Steven's lion. Lars had ridden on the lion for the trip there, and found he did not like the bumpy ride whatsoever, having nearly fallen off twice.

"C'mon Lars! Hop on!", Steven had called out.

"Noooope, just gonna stay here," he had rolled his eyes, and leaned his head against the side of the bus stop, hearing the rain patter on the ground, and flicked his eyes to look at the sky, seeing it growing dark. If it had been better weather, he could try to walk home, but there was the issue in that he didn't even know where he  _was_. Where ever Steven had directed his lion to, it was outside of the city, and Lars wasn't so sure he wanted to get lost in the dark  _and_  the rain.

Steven's phone had beeped at one point, and the boy yelped as he saw it was a message from Garnet wanting him back to the temple immediately. He quickly offered Connie a ride home, but the girl insisted she could just call her mom, and that Steven should report to the Crystal Gems, wishing him the best of luck with whatever it might be.

Deciding it wasn't as much fun playing in the rain by herself, Connie walked over to the bus stop, plopping on the other side of the bench Lars was on, and pulled out her phone, telling her mother the street she was on, asking for a ride home.

"Where are we anyway?", Lars decided to finally ask.

"About a half mile from the hospital," Connie shrugged, fixing her raincoat, "Steven and I come around here a lot to play with Lion."

"Ah," Lars muttered, realizing there was no way in hell he'd be able to walk home this far, and in this weather, "Y'know when the next bus to this stop comes by?"

"No, sorry," Connie sighed.

"S'fine," he sighed, slouching back, "I'm sure one's gotta come by at some point."

It was quiet for several minutes before Connie spoke up, "So the paint is still pretty sturdy on my violin. Thanks again."

"Oh good," he shrugged his shoulders a little, rolling them, "Yeah, that's the good thing about car paint. It's cheap, and isn't all watery."

"Yeah," she nodded, "My mom would kill me if it got water damage."

"Isn't your mom a doctor? Wouldn't killing you violate the Hippocratic oath or something?", he snorted.

"I don't know," she laughed, "She can kill with a look."

"Yeah no kidding," he snickered, and glanced up as he heard a car rolling down the wet road.

When Priyanka pulled up, she was glad to see Connie was where she said she was, but had to double take when she saw her sitting with Lars. She watched her daughter get up, and head to the car, giving a wave to the teen, who gave a small wave back before going back to slouching on the bench by himself.

When Connie got in the passenger seat, Priyanka glanced at the teen, then her daughter, "Does he have a ride coming for him?"

"I think he said he's waiting for the bus," Connie admitted.

"Oh goodness," her mother muttered, and rolled down her window, calling out to Lars, "That bus stop's been off the route for years!"

Lars groaned, "Seriously?", and ran a hand through his hair.

"Do you have anyone to call for a ride?"

Realizing he couldn't lie and try to walk home, he sighed, then called out, "No."

"Alright. Get in the back," she rolled up her window.

"Mom, are you really letting him have a ride?"

"Well either that or watch him be a patient again when he gets pneumonia from trying to walk home, or get hit by a car  _again_ ," she shrugged.

Lars, once again, was mostly dead quiet when he got in the back of their car, and without being asked, buckled in, "Uh...do you need directions or nah?"

"I think I can find it," Priyanka spoke coolly, and began driving down the road, asking Connie how her day was, and having a conversation with her as the teen sat cagily in the back, dead quiet, and looking out the window.

When they reached the split between the exit to Beach City, and the route home, Priyanka drove the normal route back home, and Connie perked up, "Uh, mom aren't we supposed to-"

Lars was looking around in confusion, and spoke up, "Uhhhhhh...I live...back...there."

"I know," Priyanka answered calmly, driving to their own home. She was going to make sure Lars got a decent meal that was healthier than the donuts he probably munched on semi-regularly, "Lars, are you allergic to anything?"

"Wait, what are you doing?", he frowned, still looking behind him, out the rear window.

"Uh...I think she's having you stay for dinner," Connie mumbled.

"Woah, hey, you don't need to do that, I-"

"Well, I want to, and we passed the exit, so accept this invitation, and grin and bear it until I drive you home after dinner," Connie's mother spoke with a bit of sternness.

Lars stared in disbelief, "Did you just  _kidnap_  me?"

"I hardly think a free meal is kidnapping," she rolled her eyes, "Now back to my first question, are you allergic to anything?"

He groaned, "Shrimp. Gives me hives."

"Well good thing we're not having that, and I hope you like pasta," she spoke, still remaining calm and collected, amidst the confusion of the other two in the car.

Upon arriving home, she instructed Lars to take his wet shoes off at the door, and his coat on the hook set on the door, and went into the kitchen to tell her husband they had a guest over for dinner.

Poking his head out of the kitchen doorway, Mr. Maheswaran got a glimpse of the teenager sat on his couch, silently looking around the living room. He frowned as he examined Lars' gauges, wondering how his wife was acquainted with him.

He turned his attention back to Priyanka just as Lars gently touched one of the decorative ornaments on their coffee table, and whispered, "Where'd you find him?"

"He's a friend of Connie's...or more specifically her other friend, Steven's. And he is joining us for dinner."

"...Is this that boy you were telling me about, the one who you've been making the extra lunches for?", he poked his head out again, hiding his slight annoyance as Lars lifted a lid off a decorative jar in curiosity.

"He probably needs something like this, Doug," she sighed, "I have a feeling he doesn't have many dinners with his parents, considering how dark his house seemed when I dropped him off that one time."

"They could be just like us," he suggested, "Night shifts and everything."

"I don't think so," she sighed, "He's difficult, but harmless, I think I can judge that well enough with him."

Doug peeked out again, seeing Lars chattering casually with Connie as she was leafing through sheet music to show him. Pulling his head back in, Doug sighed, "Fine, but if he tries anything weird, I'm not sure I like the idea of Connie being associated with him."

"I think he's more wary of Connie than she is of him" she sighed, and helped her husband set up for dinner.

Lars was exceptionally quiet during the meal, seeming more invested in listening to the conversation between the three family members, and looking at his plate, and his lap.

"So Lars...what's the story behind your ears?", Doug asked, trying to sound casual.

"Uh...", he began, voice soft, "I just wanted to make 'em like this. Thought it was cool."

"I see," he nodded, brow furrowing, "So what do you like to study in school?"

"...I dunno," he mumbled, "Science is OK I guess."

"I ended up having to like science when I got to college," Priyanka chimed in, trying to make the conversation a little more lighthearted, "Otherwise I wouldn't be a doctor."

"I can see why," Lars mumbled, "Lots of measuring and stuff...gotta be good at math too, right?"

"Definitely," she nodded, "Are you partial to math?"

"Not really," he mumbled, "I'm good with numbers, but I get bored with it."

"Too easy?"

"No...too much work," he mumbled.

Doug rolled his eyes a little, and Priyanka sighed, "Well, I suppose we can't all like math."

"What about art class?" Connie asked, wanting to join the conversation in Lars' favor, "I mean, you painted my violin."

"The art class at school isn't that good," he muttered, "Took it last year, all we did was stuff in pencil and perspective practice. It got boring."

"So are you self taught?" Priyanka asked with an encouraging look.

"Not even. I was a terrible artist up until like last year. I got lessons from my friend Sour Cream's mom, Vidalia. She's pretty chill."

"Your friend's name is  _Sour Cream?_ ", Doug repeated, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"Yeah...their family's...different," Lars mumbled, "They're nice though," and took a large mouthful of pasta, not saying anything else for the remainder of the meal.

At least he had decent table manners, Priyanka observed.

After dinner was over, the dishes had been stacked by the sink, and without even being asked, Lars had gone over to the stack of dishes, turning on the sink, rolling his sleeves up, and starting to get to work on cleaning them.

The Maheswarans looked at each other, and Priyanka spoke up, "...You know we have a dishwasher, right?"

Lars perked up, and looked down at the appliance in counter, and his cheeks flushed in embarrassment, "Oh...uh...yeah. I guess I'm just used to cleaning up after dinner."

"Not that it's a bad thing. I'm sure your parents are happy to have you doing chores without being asked," Doug smiled, being a little more friendly to the boy.

He paused mid-scrub on a dish, and mumbled, "Yeah. Sure. They really wouldn't know either way."

As Mrs. Maheswaran drove Lars home, he was dead quiet for the ride, only speaking up when she had suggested he call his parents to let them know where he was.

"It's fine," he assured, "They're...well they're not going to know if I was there or not," he sighed, and Priyanka could sense resignation in his voice.

"Do your parents work at night?"

"When they're in town, yeah."

"Do you travel a lot?"

" _They_  do."

"Business trips?"

"You could say that," he sighed, and pulled out his phone, "...guess it wouldn't hurt to call 'em though", and punched in the numbers to his mother's cell phone, holding it up to his ear as the dial tone chimed.

In the silence of the drive, aside from the patter of rain, Priyanka could hear an automatic voicemail message on the line, and as soon as it beeped, Lars began to speak in Mandarin, his voice soft and tired, like this hadn't been the first time he'd gotten no response. Of all the words that came out, all she could understand were the words for 'mother' and 'father', and a goodbye. When his short message was done, he hung up, and sighed, "Guess they're on the road or something."

When she pulled up to his house, it was as lonely and dark as before, if not moreso, and he softly spoke up, not making eye contact with her, "Er...uh...thank you for dinner...It was nice..."

"It was no trouble," she assured, then added with a softer tone, "You're welcome to come by again if need be."

He looked at his lap, "Okay, whatever," he mumbled, and got out, sighing as he pulled out his key, walking up to his empty house, and letting himself inside, the door shutting hollowly behind him.

Priyanka was starting to understand beyond just a guess of how difficult it probably was to be Lars Cheng.

* * *

The cold weather soon progressed into worse conditions, with the first snow of the year ending up coming earlier than expected, and far more intense than expected. Overnight, instead of a simple dusting, the roads ended up getting covered, creating some impressive snowdrifts.

While some businesses decided to close, the owner of the Big Donut figured customers would want to buy hot coffee from the store to fend off the cold weather, and asked for Lars and Sadie to come in, since they lived the closest of all the employees. Sadie complied without much issue, Lars was more than a little cranky about it.

Steven ended up using Lion to bring Connie to the city so they could have snowball fights and enjoy the weather together, and when they got too cold, they retreated to one of the few businesses still open to warm up, the Big Donut, and Connie decided she could treat herself to a hot chocolate now and then.

After the second day of working that week, on his way home, Lars pulled out his ring of keys, and was confused to his house key wasn't on it. After a failed search for the spare on his porch, and retracing his steps, he was still unable to find it.

He tried to open one of the windows, but it was frozen shut. He couldn't get through the garage either.

He was locked out of his own house.

Lars swallowed hard, feeling a growing lump in his throat as he stood out in the snow, and hesitantly texted his mother's phone ' _Lost my house key, can't find the spare._ '

Not expecting her to answer for a while, he realized he'd need to find a place to camp out until he could get back inside.

He could always go to Sadie's. But she lived on the other side of town, and he didn't want to walk that far, especially in the cold and the dark. Not to mention she'd probably give him a talking to about losing his key or something. He didn't have time for that crap.

Steven's family was too weird, he didn't want to get roped into anything 'magical' and wind up with a sprained ankle like last time. Also he was pretty sure they didn't have any rules on privacy, so he'd be stuck with someone eventually peeking in on him if he was trying to sleep, or use the bathroom.

He'd started talking to Ronaldo again, but he really didn't want to spend a night at the guy's house, especially if he binge-watched anime on a regular basis or blabbed about lizard people. Also that family ate potatoes on a regular basis, and Lars was pretty sure potatoes gave him indigestion.

He wouldn't even ask Buck, Jenny, or Sour Cream. He didn't want to waste their time.

Deciding his best and only option was to camp out at the Big Donut, he walked back on the route he came from, and pulled out his key ring his house key was missing from, and let himself in through the back, locking it from the inside, and turned on the furnace in the employee room. It was old, and didn't work so great, but it at least kept the place from being unbearably freezing.

Lars made himself a cup of instant noodles from the employee fridge, got comfy on a box of napkins, and put on his headphones, deciding this probably wasn't so bad.

Around 10 PM, his mother texted him, telling him they would have a new key shipped to the house.  _Damn it, that could take over a week!_

His heart was telling him that this wasn't going to end up working, but Lars was not going to let himself admit defeat just yet. He just needed to see if he could last the night here.

Around midnight, his mother texted him, telling him that she and her father were still planning to return home that weekend, and that made things a little better, knowing he'd only have to last another night or two here if he didn't find his key.

He set the alarm on his phone for an hour before opening, so he could fake out, and not let Sadie know he'd spent the night here, and tried to fall asleep on the napkins. Tried, but not succeeding, since it was particularly uncomfortable on his tall spindly body, and the hum of the fridges was driving him nuts. Around three AM, he finally crashed.

The alarm buzzed at 5:30, and he hated that he had to open his eyes, struggling to get up. He ran outside into the weather to wake himself up, and went back inside shivering. It didn't help much, but it would have to do.

He gave a cheeky grin to Sadie as she arrived at the front door of the store while he stood there, ready to gloat, "Who's the early riser now?"

"You, but gosh, your clothes are all wrinkled," she observed, raising an eyebrow as she unlocked the door and swung it open.

"Huh? Oh yeah, ran outta starch for laundry," he lied, giving a casual shrug.

Lars managed to make it through the day without much problems, but within the last two hours, he was fighting to keep his eyes open, and Sadie seemed to notice, telling him he should just go home, that she could handle closing the store herself today if he was tired. He insisted on helping, but after leaning on his mop to doze more than once, he gave in, and rest in a chair, dozing off for another twenty minutes.

When Sadie said she was done, and ready to go home, he told her he could lock up, and that she could go on home already. Once she had left, he locked the back, and made himself comfy inside, ending up sleeping on the floor right next to the heater vent.

That next day was horrible, since his exhaustion was starting to catch up to him to the point it was killing his appetite, making him unable to eat the lunch Connie had given to him that her mother prepared. God, was she still insisting on doing that for him? He wasn't a damn kid, didn't she know that? He didn't need these handouts, he didn't need all these rides, he didn't need anything from her;why did she insist on giving him things he didn't need? Sure, the lunches were nice, and the rides home in the bad weather were better than walking, but he didn't deserve crap like that!

That third night, he was numb from the draft, and the fact his back was probably getting flat from the floor. He never really got to sleep, but he could feel his brain just shut off. He just needed to last one more night. One more.

His calm had worn quite thin that next morning, to the point where he was uncontrollably grouchy, and rude to the few customers who came in.

When Sadie had told him he didn't look well, he had snapped at her, asking her what she knew, and that he didn't have time for this crap.

She had told him off, he knew that much, he didn't remember much of what was said, since his brain was shutting off, but he did remember it made him feel pretty terrible, and struggling to apologize. In an attempt to make Sadie less mad at him, he'd offered to close up again, since he planned to wait there until one of his parents got home later that night as he was expecting, and she seemed to accept that, but with suspicion.

Once she had gone home, Lars still felt gross, tired, and sick, his stomach tying itself in knots after knots.

He decided to text his mother,  _'Let me know when your plane lands'_

After a slow hour of feeling brain dead, he received a response that made his heart sink into his twisted stomach, and make him feel ready to puke.

_'Sorry, we had a change of plans last minute, we'll be back home in a few weeks, promise <3'_

In a kneejerk reaction, he chucked his phone across the wall, hearing a crack. Panicking, thinking he broke it, he rushed over, and picked it up, seeing a dent in the case. He swore aloud, and kicked the wall, wincing as he felt pain shoot up his toes, and whirled around to find other things to take his rage on.

After kicking a chair, his rage quickly died, and it was filled with something else.

Panic.

He needed to get back home, to his own room, his own kitchen, his own dark lonely house where he had things he needed, his food, his medicine, his clothes, his blankets, his phone charger, his savings, his tea, his parents- no wait. They weren't home. And he was pretty sure he didn't need them.

He didn't need them for the last consecutive nine weeks, he didn't need them now! He didn't need them for the last several long term trips they'd made out of Beach City! He didn't need them when they were actually in Beach City and busy with their high profile jobs so that they were unreachable both day and night! Damn it, he didn't need them! They'd given him money for food, the money for monthly bills, his own house key, emergency numbers, and a new phone so he could text them ' _whenever he wanted, but only if he was willing to wait over two hours, maybe only one hour if it's an emergency'._

But who cared about what he wanted? What he wanted wasn't what could keep bread on the table right?

The importance of putting needs over wants was shouting in his head, even as his panic ripped through him full force, urging him to rush out of the store, and blindly running through the snow for home, intending to yank at the front door until his hands were broke and bleeding, and even then, he would try to pry it open.

The cold air bit at his face, and made his lungs burn with exertion, making his breaths audible. He couldn't even tell he had started to sob, which was making his breath expel out even more so, making it hard for him to breathe.

At the final crosswalk to reach his street, he didn't even look to see at what was possibly about to pass by, and darted out into the street. As he heard tires screech, he whirled his head to face a blinding light, and screamed in absolute terror.

Priyanka swore that this boy was going to give her a heart attack if he kept this up. She couldn't even drive to the photocopy store without an accident he caused?

She knew she hadn't hit him, but upon seeing him crumpled on the ground, knees tucked under himself, gripping onto himself tightly, she knew something was wrong.

Getting out of her car, putting on the brake, Priyanka closed the door so snowflakes wouldn't fly inside it, and walked in front of it, seeing Lars was a complete mess, shivering and sobbing as he sat on the road.

"Are you alright?", she asked with concern, "Are you hurt?"

Lars was unable to make words, hyperventilating as he clung onto himself tightly, staring at the cold white road under him. Snowflakes were starting to stick on his cheeks, melting where his tears had streaked his face.

"Lars," Priyanka repeated sternly, "Are you hurt?"

"I-I du-don't...I-" he was struggling to make words in his difficulty of breath, choking on another sob, and he fell back so he was sat on the road, scrubbing at his face as he continued to sob, unable to control it.

Priyanka's heart dropped, seeing him in such a state, realizing he was having a nervous breakdown, and let out a sigh, crouching so she was on his level. She winced as she felt snow melting through her work pants, but ignored it as she heard another sob bubble from the teenager's throat. Part of her wanted to feel glad that she was able to reach through to him and see him express more emotion beyond snark and quietness, but seeing him have a meltdown like a lost child, it made her feel less like she was a doctor at this point, and more like a mother.

Rubbing Lars' shoulder, in hopes it might calm him down, she told him she wasn't expecting him to tell her what had happened, but that she was more than willing to help him get home.

"Cuh-can't," he wheezed, still struggling to breathe, then gave another weak sob, wiping a snowflake off his lashes, "I lost my key."

"When and where did you lose it?", she raised an eyebrow.

"Dunno where," he cried, sucking in another breath, "Lost it earlier this week."

"Where have you been going since then?"

"Break room. Stayed in there," he choked on another sob, "I th-thought my parents were gonna come back this week, but they're gonna be gone another extra three weeks."

"Three weeks?", she asked incredulously, "How long have they been gone by now?"

"I-I saw 'em in September," he hiccuped, "I-I...I-", he tried to add more, but his eyes filled up with more tears, and he was unable to stop crying.

Priyanka sighed, pulling him into a hug, which he sank into without even a fight, shaking against her as he sobbed. She knew that right now, he didn't need a doctor, he needed a parent who could listen to him. And since he didn't have any right now, she'd have to substitute.

After a minute, deeming that he had calmed down enough to stand up, she told him to get in the car, and held back a warning to be mindful of his wet clothes, deciding she could just clean the back seat later. He didn't even argue it, just shakily getting himself up, still sniffling and hiccuping as he got in the back seat, still hugging himself like a lifeline.

She drove past his house, and towards the exit out of Beach City, glad she had put on snow tires earlier that day.

Once Lars had actually realized they were leaving Beach City, he spoke up "Wh-wait I-"

"If you can't get in your house, then the next option is to drive to my house. You look like you need a shower, dry clothes, some decent food-"

"Medicine."

"Excuse me?", she glanced back at him."

"I got medicine at home," he mumbled, "I gotta get it, I missed doses already."

"What is it for?", she frowned.

"Uh, antidepressants," he spoke barely above a whisper, as if he was ashamed.

Priyanka took a deep breath. That explained a lot. She sighed, "I see. That's important to know," then drove in silence for a handful of seconds before she spoke up, "Alright, after I make sure you're settled and coherent, I'll drive by the hospital to see if I can fill you a prescription so you don't have to miss any more doses. Do you know what kind it is?"

"Yeah but-", he whimpered, "It costs a lot, and I don't want you to-"

"I'm a doctor. It won't cost me," she assured, "And I'll make sure it doesn't cost you this one time."

"...I...", he began.

"Don't argue with me," she leered back at him through the rear view mirror, "It's not any trouble of mine to make sure you're healthy and functioning, understood? It's a parent's job to make sure of that."

As much as Lars wanted to say he knew that, he wasn't exactly sure that he  _had_  known that until now.

* * *

"Priyanka, are you serious?", Mr. Maheswaran whispered, looking back into the living room again, where he had hesitantly prepared the couch for the teenager who had just finished up his shower, and was exhaustively slumped on the couch in a robe and borrowed pajamas while his own clothes were being washed and dried.

"He doesn't have anywhere else to go, Doug," she spoke looking at the type of medication Lars had written down for her, along with the dosage amount, and was already grabbing her doctor's coat.

"I just don't think it's that safe," he sighed, "I mean dinner was one thing, but this...", he pointed to the living room, then suggested, "The homeless shelter is very nice," he offered, "We could just leave him there for the night and-"

"No," she spoke sternly, "I don't like the idea of leaving him there, especially when it's so cold out, and they're probably low on beds. Besides, I don't see the issue of safety by having him sleep here," she raised an eyebrow, "Connie's staying the night with her friend Steven, remember?"

"I'm not even sure I'm alright with  _that_  yet," he sighed, "I just don't like the idea of having a stranger sleeping in our living room. What if he tries to steal something?"

"Heard that," Lars piped up from the living room, sounding dead, "I don't want any of your shit."

Doug's brow furrowed at the rude answer, and Priyanka sighed, "He's exhausted, leave it. Just go to bed, I'll be back home shortly."

"You get some sleep too, alright dear?", he sighed, kissing her cheek, and headed towards the stairs, passing by the couch where Lars was situated, the teen curled into a huddle under the comforter, staring at the back of the couch.

Priyanka's trip to the hospital was fairly quick, managing to get a prescription filled for Lars, covering it with her own money. She knew how antidepressants worked, and that the sooner he was back on track with his doses, the better.

When she got home, the lights in the living room were shut off, and she saw Lars curled under the blanket, out like a light. His exhaustion had probably hit him like a train, and gotten him to sleep rather quickly.

Suspecting his living situation for the last few days was going to take a toll on his health (goodness knows how he stayed healthy with his lifestyle for the last several weeks), Priyanka had grabbed a spare blanket from the closet, and draped it over him, a little amused to see him unconsciously snuggle into it, sleeping too deep for dreams.

Right before she'd gone to bed, Priyanka had noticed Lars had written the name of a doctor she had not heard of, and phone number down on the slip of paper he'd given her with his medication name, and decided to look them up on the computer, wondering if that was his physician. Upon discovering they were a psychiatrist, Priyanka was starting to wonder how often Lars was seeing a psychiatrist or therapist, and how much he was paying for those visits and his medication. And since he was living alone, how much was he paying for food? For bills? How much money did his parents even give him?

These were questions she would either ask in the morning, or perhaps hold her tongue on, wondering if it was really worth it to get this invested in this boy's well being.

* * *

Both of the Maheswaran's were early risers, at least 5:15 AM on workdays, and on days when they didn't work, no later than 6:30. Since it was a workday, the sun had barely risen as they were both getting ready for the day.

Just as he always did on early mornings, Doug let his wife shower before him, and once she was out of the shower and dressed, he would have access to the bathroom to shower and get ready for his shift. Once he was ready, he went downstairs, towards the kitchen to have his breakfast and coffee, but as he was about to step in, Priyanka suddenly tugged him back.

"What is it?", he frowned, looking at her in confusion, and turned his head in the direction his wife was pointing, peeking in the kitchen doorway.

Lars was in their kitchen, dressed in his freshly cleaned clothes, and working near the stove top, chopping veggies he'd taken from their fridge, and then grabbing a whisk and stirring it quickly in another bowl, and multitasking between bowls of mixes and ingredients.

"How long has he been in there?", Doug whispered.

"No idea," she spoke, almost impressed that they hadn't even heard the teen get up, "I'm not going to stop him though, he looks like he knows what he's doing."

"...Alright, but I still want to make my coffee."

Priyanka nudged his arm, pointing to the already brewing pot on the counter, Lars having covered that.

"...It better be excellent coffee," he whispered, "If he even thought of making enough for everyone and not just himself."

Lars perked up at hearing voices, and turned to face the doorway, seeing the two, and flushed brightly, "I uh...I'm just...I thought I'd make breakfast and uh-"

"It's quite alright," Priyanka assured, "What are you making?"

"Er...omelette," he mumbled sheepishly, averting his attention back to the skillet, seeing it primed and ready to have everything poured on, and began to dump everything in, stirring so there was an even amount of cheese and veggie all throughout, "Do you guys like tomatoes and stuff? I saw you had a bunch of veggies in your fridge and I thought they'd be good..."

"Well how much did you use of everything?", Doug asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well uh, I-" Lars began, trying to recollect exactly everything he'd picked out.

"It doesn't matter," Priyanka cut in, "You're welcome to use what you need. Do you need any help?"

"Nah, I got it," he mumbled, paying close attention to his cooking.

"Alright then," she nodded, folding her arms, and looking at her husband, "Now isn't that nice of him, dear? To be making us breakfast? Shouldn't we thank him?"

"You don't ever thank  _me_  for making breakfast," he whined.

She gently swatted her hair, "Well it's expected of you."

He sighed, "Thank you, Lars, for cooking for us."

Lars blushed with embarrassment, "U-uh...it's fine..."

"Mind if I step past you to pour myself some coffee?"

"Oh uh, that's not coffee," Lars piped up, "It's tea."

"Tea in a coffeepot? We have a kettle, you know," Priyanka pointed out.

"The bottom's all burned out on it, it would flake off in the water," Lars admitted, and picked up the kettle, "I'd know. I have this same kettle at home, and I hafta replace it every couple years."

"Well I guess I just learned something new," she raised an eyebrow, a little impressed at the boy's culinary eye.

Lars gave a small nod, "It should come out fine in the coffee pot, just won't be as full as chai usually is...by the way, your tea selection's pretty nice, but half of them need a strainer. I couldn't find one in your drawers," he pointed, then shrugged, "But the coffee filters work fine in lieu of it, I guess. I'm guessing you guys don't drink tea much?", he asked, poking the omelette with his spatula, making sure the edges were golden brown.

"No...", Doug sucked in his cheeks, "Most of those teas we received as wedding gifts..."

"Wow, that explains their age," Lars glanced over, "Like twenty years or something, right?"

Priyanka was holding back a snort of laughter as her husband blushed with embarrassment, and spoke up, "Around that, yes. If you wish, you might like to take some of them off our hands, especially since you seem to know a lot about them."

Lars flushed, "Uh...really?...Alright," he shrugged, and flipped the omelette with no trouble, being able to make them with his hands tied. Being alone at home and having only so much food span out before he was forced to run for groceries, he could use most anything to mix with eggs to make a decent breakfast.

Doug had poured himself some of the tea to sample, and took a careful sip. A few seconds later, he stared in disbelief at the drink, then at the lanky teen that had infiltrated his kitchen, then looked at Priyanka in disbelief, pointing at the tea, then Lars, then the tea again.

Still trying not to laugh at her husband, Priyanka walked into the kitchen, pouring herself a small cup of the tea, tasting it.

Wow.

She'd enjoyed tea quite a lot when she was younger, and after not having it for a number of years, it was good luck to have her re-introductory cup taste so wonderfully.

"Well, Lars, I think it's a unanimous verdict this is great tea," she spoke calmly, the boy facing away from them as he worked.

"Psh-...", he snorted, face red, "...I can make better with a kettle."

"If we got a new kettle, would you make this for us again sometime?"

Lars' ears turned red like his face, and he awkwardly shrugged his shoulders, "...I mean...yeah. S'just tea."

Once the omelette was done, he put it on a plate, and cut it into thirds with the spatula, clicking his tongue, "Uh, OK so like...it's a little lumpy, so it's cut a bit unevenly. I'll just take this super small third, and you two can have the-"

"I'll take the small piece," Doug sighed, rolling his eyes, and taking the plate with the portion on it, going over to the table to sit down, cutting a piece with his fork, and popping it in his mouth.

Once again, he stared in disbelief at the teenager, then his food, then his wife. Who the hell was this punk, and who did he think he was tricking him with a hopelessly delicious breakfast.

"Why do you not work in a restaurant already?", he asked incredulously, spooking Lars a little, and the boy was still bright red, and without an answer.

Doug finished his breakfast shortly, and was on time to leave for work, still whispering under his breath in disbelief about Lars' cooking.

"Well I think my husband liked his breakfast," Priyanka spoke to Lars, looking a bit smug.

Lars mumbled into his cup of tea, "Oh that's good. I thought he was gonna cuff me for using your fridge."

"Don't mind him, he's just one to be set in his ways, I suppose."

"Yeah," Lars mumbled, taking a bite of his breakfast, looking out the window, seeing the snow had stopped falling, and snowplows had cleared the road outside.

"Are you feeling better?", the doctor then asked him, "You gave quite a scare last night."

"Yeah. I'm fine," he answered, words stuck in his throat, and stuffed more food in his mouth, "This just happens every now and then."

"What exactly?"

"I dunno. The freakouts and shit-"

"No swearing at the table please."

"Sorry," he muttered, cheeks red, "It's something I'm working out with my therapist. I'm trying to save up money before my next appointment with 'em."

"Don't your parents send you enough money to cover them too?"

Lars looked at his plate in silence for several seconds, before glancing at her, then his plate again, "No. They don't even know about 'em, or my prescription. They send me money for paying the bills and groceries, and I kinda keep a chunk of it to save up."

"You should tell them," she frowned, "Something like this is serious."

"They don't need to know about it. I'd feel bad if I wrecked their trip by making them worry over it."

"Wrecked trips should be the least of their worries, much less yours. Are these trips for their jobs?"

"Some are," Lars admitted, poking at his plate, "This one they've been on? I don't even know," he admitted, "Seems like their business trips are the short ones, and these longer trips are just a reason for them to get away from me."

Priyanka looked at the boy, certain that by now, he had more problems to face than anyone his age should have to face, and that she probably wouldn't ever have a full understanding of how difficult things were for him.

"You know," she sighed, "If you feel like you need someone to talk to about this, you're always welcome to come back here."

Lars didn't respond, not wanting to give a yes or a no, and instead just fidgeted with his hands.

"But I understand, sometimes these things are...difficult to discuss. So even then, if you just need a place to...what is the word you teenagers use? Vent? You can come here, I suppose."

Cheeks red, Lars swallowed, giving a lopsided attempt of a smile, "That's uh...really nice," and rubbed his head a little, shoveling in another mouthful of food.

"Besides. I think we want you to come back and cook for us again whenever possible," she joked lightly.

"Oh yeah?", he laughed softly,"Is it really that good?"

"It is," she nodded, "You should be proud of yourself. Not everyone has such a definitive talent at a young age."

"Well I...", he rubbed the back of his head again, and mumbled, "Well...thanks," he shrugged,then paused, "Well...just thanks for everything I guess. You didn't hafta do anything for me but-"

"It's no trouble," she assured, and looked at her watch, "Well it looks about time for me to leave for work."

Lars perked up in realization, and looked at the clock, seeing he was forty five minutes late for work, "Oh FU-", he paused seeing her staring at him, then he sat up "Fudge," he spoke deadpanned, having caught himself, and muttered, "I'm late. Sadie's gonna be so mad."

"Just tell her you had an early doctor's appointment, and I'm sure she'll understand," she assured.

"Yeah," he sighed, and just as he picked up his cell phone, a text beeped from Sadie.

_'Lars, snowstorm last night knocked out the power at the store, so its closed today, lucky we can go back to bed :p. Also btw, I found your house key in the snow by the back door. Hope you had your spare! I'll drop it off at your house- Sades'_

Lars sighed in relief, "OK, two strokes of luck, work is closed today, and Sadie found my house key. So I guess I can go home."

"Well considering I have to work and your house is off route, how about we make a deal; I leave you here until my shift is over with the promise you will cook our family dinner, and then I'll drive you home?"

Lars cracked a genuine smile, "I guess I can do that."

* * *

Following some hints dropped by Connie, or blunt invitations, over the course of a month, Lars had become a welcome dinner guest at the Maheswaran's at least once a week, cooking a meal for the family who were perfectly fine with letting him adopt them as his family until his own actually bothered to be around him. And even then, he might be fine with sticking around theirs. At least they were around when he needed them.

When Connie and Steven hung out at the Big Donut, the girl was always sure to greet Lars, who greeted her back with whatever nickname he'd chosen for her that week. It was always different, Half-Pint, Bookworm, Con-Air, whatever he felt would provoke her to give him a nickname back.

One evening, while driving him home, Priyanka spoke up, "You still paint for money, right?"

"Uh...I guess?", he shrugged, his fidgety hands wandering across their car's radio buttons, playing with the cigarette lighter.

"Don't touch that," she scolded, before continuing, "I have a commission for you. The hospital is looking for art pieces to hang in the waiting rooms. I thought you might like to fill a canvas. "

"Uh...alright...what does it have to be of?"

"It can be of anything," she shrugged, "Whatever it is you decide on. You're capable of making something people might want to see in a hospital, I know you are. I'm willing to pay about $300 for it, but if you want to charge more, maybe we can discuss it and-"

"Woah,  _$300_?", he looked at her in disbelief, "That's like ten times what I would charge-"

"What did I tell you about under pricing? Don't judge your work so poorly," she rolled her eyes, "That lady teaching you, Vidalia, I saw her work on sale, she's selling it for $500 a piece."

"Well yeah, but that's different, she's an  _artist_ -"

"And what do you consider yourself?"

"...A guy just slappin' paint on things?", he admitted, "I just got into it because it made me feel better."

"I'd still consider that the work of an artist," she assured, "You don't have to do the commission, but consider it an opportunity for extra money."

When she pulled up to his house, still dark, he spoke up, "Can I do it at your house? Then you can see it and make sure I'm not making it too terrible?"

"That's fine," she assured, "Bring all your painting supplies with you to work tomorrow, and I'll pick you up with Connie."

Lars' weekly dinner with the Maheswaran's became a daily one as he worked in their garage with his paints and easel, not saying a word until he took a break to either cook the family dinner, or eat what was already made by Priyanka or Doug. Connie would occasionally sit in on him while he painted, watching him work, but never said a word, not wanting to disrupt him.

After a week of painting, Lars was still working, and seemed more than a little excited about it, insisting he was looking forward to showing people, but that he didn't want anyone to see it until it was done. Connie had already broken the rule, but he'd let it slide, she was good at keeping secrets, he figured.

On a day where he didn't have a shift at the Big Donut, Priyanka had just picked him up that afternoon so he could get the last touches of his painting done before the sun even set.

During a lunch break, while he sat at the kitchen table with Connie and her mother, the doorbell rang, and Priyanka had gone to answer it, figuring it was the mailman, or a salesperson. When she opened the door, a woman stood there, looking a little impatient, and immediately started talking, tone hurried but cordial, "Hi, you must be Mrs. Maheswaran! I'm so glad I had the right address! Is Lars here?"

"Er...yes? Who are you?", she frowned at the well dressed woman, who looked like she was about to go to a business lunch.

"I'm Mrs. Cheng, his mother," she smiled, "Is he here?"

"Well yes, but he-"

"Oh is he busy? Oh never mind then," she smiled, "I just wanted to tell him that we-"

"Hey, Priyanka, Connie and I found some hazelnut spread and we-", Lars walked into the foyer, smile dropping as he saw who was at the door, " _Mom?_ "

"Oh, Lars, love!", she smiled, "Your father and I didn't see you at home, and we saw the emergency contact you wrote down for here, so we decided to see if you were here!"

"Well uh...yeah," he smiled awkwardly, "It's really good to see you home, when did you get back?"

"Just about an hour ago," she smiled, "Are you having a good time here?"

"Yeah," he smiled, "I've been working on a painting and-"

"Oh that's wonderful!", she didn't even let him finish his sentence, "I don't want to stop your good time here, I just wanted to say hello! Your father is in the car, he says hi."

"Oh uh, great," he smiled, "Maybe he can come out and-"

"Oh no, we have to get going," she spoke, voice hardly apologetic as her son's smile slowly dropped, "We have to go home and unpack, and then run to the office, and regroup there. Then we have to plan out the next trip. Travel rates are going up, so your father and I would like to get a flight for this week if we want to get to Thailand without a hitch."

" _Thailand?_ ", he repeated, throat starting to close up, "You're not even gonna tell me about how your trip went this time? Y-you were gone for-"

"Oh, dear, I know," she spoke with the type of sympathy given to a young and easily pacified child, "But maybe if we can get everything packed before then, maybe we can tell you! Or we can call you after we land in Bangkok? I know you want to catch up, but your father and I have many things we need to do, I'm sure you understand right?"

Lars' face had gone from hurt to stone cold, and flicked his gaze at Priyanka for a moment, then to his mother again, "Sure. I understand," he bit his lip, "I hope your trip to Thailand goes well. Thank you for coming to say hello, mother. "

Priyanka felt ice run through her veins for several seconds as she heard the coldness in Lars' voice, and watched him turn to go back into the kitchen, Connie looking conflicted as she slowly started to follow him back.

Evidently the only one who didn't notice how hurt Lars had been was his own mother, who still smiled cordially, and chirped, "Well he seems to be doing very well here. Thank you again for this. We'd take him off your hands now, but we're a little busy up until we have our next flight planned, and then we need a few hours to ourselves."

Priyanka was already starting to feel her temper flare. Hours to themselves? Those two had goddamn  _months_  to themselves! Business trips every week? Month long vacations to god knows where? Leaving their boy home alone with money to last months that just gave the message they  _wanted_  him to be alone? Taking a deep breath, Priyanka readied herself to tell her something that she had been wanting to tell the Chengs for weeks.

"Mrs. Cheng," she began, deciding she'd start with tactfulness and hope this woman didn't set her off, "It's almost February."

"Oh I know I-"

"From what Lars told me, your trip began in September, and you were going to arrive home in October."

"Well yes, we-"

"Did you know that your son's been at my house several times in a few months? And that he's spent the night here more than once?"

Mrs. Cheng was looking over her shoulder at the car crookedly parked outside the Maheswaran's house.

"My family enjoys having Lars, he's a good young man, a  _wonderful_  young man," Priyanka continued, "But he feels pretty bad about being alone for this long. For  _months_ , I mean."

The affluent woman's smile was starting to disappear, her expression becoming more curious as she looked at Mrs. Maheswaran.

"Did you know that the money you're sending him, for food and bills, that not even half of it is going to that?"

"No?", she frowned, looking puzzled, "What is it going to?"

"Medication."

"Medication?", Mrs. Cheng repeated, confused.

"Yes. Anti-depressants, and therapy. Your son has depression among a handful of other issues he can't even get treatment covered for."

"I...he never told us about this-", she began softly, looking absolutely stunned.

"He felt it wasn't something that you would need to know. I guess your family has this system of prioritizing needs over wants, which is something I'd normally agree with if it weren't for the fact your son feels you don't need to know about him, and that if he  _wants_  anything, he doesn't deserve it. And he's more than a little frustrated with you and your husband for all this time away from home," she stopped to take a breath, and think through how best to phrase that Lars' parents didn't care about him, "And he feels that you and your husband don't want him or...dare I say it...need him in your lives."

Priyanka then fully expected to get slapped or yelled at by the woman who she more or less insulted.

She was shocked to instead see tears welling up in Mrs. Cheng's eyes, unable to even speak.

Taking the opportunity, she added, "All Lars wants...all he  _needs_ , is to spend more time with you."

The other woman was touching her cheeks to try and wipe away her tears, and whimpered, "Excuse me," and went back to her car and sat inside.

After a minute, and the car still not moving, Priyanka sat in the doorway of her house, figuring the two parents were talking. Probably about getting her fired or something. She had probably invoked their Prius charged wrath and would be facing legal actions or something. Hoo boy she really had done it.

"Priyanka," a voice meekly spoke up from behind her, and she got up and turned around to see who had addressed her.

Lars was standing at the edge of the foyer, fidgeting with his hands. He'd overheard most, if not all of her telling off his mother.

"I...you...," he swallowed, "Nobody's ever done that for me...Thank you," he looked her in the eye.

She sighed, "You deserve better than what you have to deal with," she sighed, "And you certainly have the right to want things, and have people who will listen to you."

He looked at his feet, and was about to sheepishly go back to the kitchen, when a voice addressed him and Mrs. Maheswaran, and they both looked to see his parents walking up to the door.

"Lars...", his mother began, eyes still red from crying (and surprisingly her husband's eyes were red too...had he cried as well?), "Your father and I decided that we can probably...postpone our trip to Thailand, and maybe save it for summer, when you don't have school and can use your vacation days at work. We'll see to having more of our work done at home than at the office."

The teen's eyes had gone wide as saucers, "I...you really can? I...", he was at a loss of words, unable to decide if he should be excited or skeptical just yet.

"You were telling your mother about a painting you were working on?", his father smiled, "Can we see it?"

Another jolt of surprise in the teen, who began tripping on his words, "O-Oh yeah! But I'm still working on it, I'm trying to get it done this afternoon, and I don't want to show anyone until it's done-"

"Then we'll just wait until it's done. We'll wait here," his mother smiled.

"R-really?", he seemed overwhelmed that they were going to spend this much time with him, "Y-y'know I was gonna stay here for dinner and-"

"We'll stay for that too," his father assured, "If it's not any trouble to Mrs. Maheswaran-"

"It's not," Priyanka assured, "Your son is a wonderful cook."

In the next two hours, while Lars worked on his painting, Priyanka discussed the issues Lars had been dealing with while they were away, and offered the best advice she could on how they could help him. "He's already on a path to stability with medication and therapy, but the irregularity of it has caused some problems. Perhaps investing more time into that could-"

"We will," his mother assured, "Now that we know."

When the sun began to set, Connie had called out to the parents that Lars had finished his painting finally, and that they could come in to see it.

Lars tried his best not to look too proud of his work when they walked in, and the sound of shock his mother made when she saw it made him perk up.

He'd done it on a bigger canvas than normal, a foot and a half wide, and three feet across. He'd made small crisp repetitive shapes that all formed into the larger picture; a painting of a shipyard in the nighttime, lights of faraway ships and buildings on the waterfront illuminating the water. When they took a longer look, they could see the even smaller shapes that formed all the different ombres of color, the highlights of color in unexpected places, and the silhouettes of people on the waterfront, on the ships, on the dock even.

"Oh, Lars, it's-" Priyanka was unable to speak, "I certainly didn't expect you to do something like this."

"Well I just wanted to make it worth $300," Lars admitted, chewing a hangnail, going shy again.

"This is worth more than that," Mr. Maheswaran spoke, absolutely impressed with the piece, "I didn't see you as much of a painter."

" _I_  never knew you could paint!", Mrs. Cheng spoke excitably, rushing over and suddenly pulling her boy into a hug, "Oh I'm so proud of you!"

Lars was flushed, both with pride, and feeling a little caged. He could sense his mom probably felt bad about everything, and was trying to make up for it. Not that it was a bad thing, but it was all going a bit too fast.

"This will look wonderful in the hospital," Priyanka smiled to the teen, clapping his shoulder.

As everyone admired the painting, Lars felt a little overwhelmed with all the attention, and decided this would be the perfect time to start on dinner.

Later that evening, after dinner was over, and Priyanka had paid Lars twice the commission price she'd originally offered (she insisted), the Maheswarans bid farewell to their guests for the evening, Lars walking with both of his parents to their car as he happily thanked Priyanka and said goodnight.

Priyanka knew Lars' life was not going to miraculously change after this, but it could get better, one way or another.

* * *

With the combined efforts of his parents to be more attentive of their son, Lars didn't need to be at the Maheswaran's as often. Still, every few weeks, he'd accept an invitation for dinner, and on several of those occasions, he'd have his parents brought along as well, and he'd take pride in cooking a meal for everyone.

One summer afternoon at the hospital, during a short break, Priyanka had looked up from her chair to see Lars walking down the hallway, a painted wood box in hand.

"What now, did you get struck by another car?", she teased, figuring he probably got dragged along by Connie and Steven on that strange pink lion.

"Not this time," he shrugged, "Sorry," and plopped the box on the counter, "I brought you a lunch though. Thought I'd return the favor for all the sack lunches."

"What now?", she looked at him, then at the box.

"Ever had a bento box? Well now you do," he smiled smugly, slapping the top, "Hand painted by yours truly."

"Impressive," she nodded casually, then glanced at her clipboard, "So when do you and your family go to Thailand again?"

"Next week," he answered, voice going a little softer.

"You be safe over there, you hear? Don't get hit by any buses or anything."

"Can't promise that," he teased a little, then bit his cheek, "I'm gonna miss you guys."

"Of course. But we'll be seeing you before this summer ends, especially since you have school to worry about."

"Right," he nodded, and after a few seconds, leaned down to hug her tight.

She didn't expect it, but nevertheless returned the hug, and waved him off as he casually started to stroll away.

As he was halfway down the hall, she decided to open the bento box, and see what he'd put in it.

On top of the delicious looking homemade food, there was a note.

_'I fed Connie trans fats! :) - Lars'_

Both amused and exasperated, she leaned over her desk, pointing at Lars who was darting away, "You get out of here! Go on! Shoo!"

"I'll miss you too!", he translated with a cackle, as he flounced out the door, and was careful as he made it across the crosswalk to the parking lot.


End file.
